Chapter 4

That night, Dad told me all of it, in broken pieces. How he had trusted his fellow resident, Victor Sterling. How Victor had stolen his research and published it. How he had been branded an academic fraud, his license revoked, his career destroyed. How he had gone from one of the top cardiothoracic surgeons in the state to a pariah.

"It was my fault. All of it was my fault."

He looked up at me, tears streaking his face.

It was his fault, he said. He should never have trusted Victor. If he hadn't, our mother would still be alive. I wouldn't have had to drop out and work double shifts to put Ethan through school.

"I don't have anything left, Anna," Dad said. He had my hand in both of his, and he was gripping so hard it hurt.

"This is the only thing I've got. Do you understand?"

I understood.

Dad would never, ever let Vivienne Sterling through the door.

So every time Ethan came back after that, I was the one who chased him off the porch with a broom.

The last time, he didn't come for Dad. He came for me.

He wanted me to take the family trust authorization papers out of Dad's safe and bring them to him. Without Dad's signature, he couldn't access his share. Couldn't fund the life he wanted with her.

"Anna. Help me out here. Just this once."

His eyes were red.

"I'm begging you. I love her. I really, really love her."

I said no.

I stood by Dad.

I watched the light in my brother's eyes go out, piece by piece, until what was left was something cold I didn't recognize.

I thought he'd give up.

I had forgotten that my brother had never given up on anything in his life.

He had clawed his way from nowhere all the way into the top neurosurgery program in the country on pure, cold, stubborn will.

I just never thought that will was going to be turned on me.

The holidays ended. A storm buried the city in snow.

I had to get to the design competition anyway.

Dad had spent months calling in every favor he had left to get me an entry slot. It was my one real shot at the career I actually wanted.

And right when I was panicking about the weather, Ethan showed up at my door.

"I'll drive you."

I didn't question it.

Twenty years as his little sister had blinded me.

He didn't take me to the competition venue.

He drove me out to a boarded-up farmhouse in the middle of nowhere and locked the door behind him.

"Anna. I'm sorry."

"I called Dad."

"Your entry slot for the trust authorization."

The bottom of my stomach dropped out. I realized exactly what he was doing.

I threw myself at the door.

"Ethan! Let me out! Let me out of here!"

"That competition is everything to me! It's my only shot — it's my only shot!"

He didn't answer.

Through the door I could hear him making a phone call. I couldn't catch the words, but I didn't need to. I was the leverage. I was the knife in my father's back.

"Ethan! Let me out!"

My voice cracked and went raw.

The clock kept running. My check-in time came and went.

He didn't open the door.

He just said, through the wood, "Anna, talk to Dad. Get him to sign the papers. That's the best outcome for everyone."

I wasn't going to throw away my future.

And I wasn't going to be the one to shatter the last scrap of dignity my father had left.

I begged. My voice broke. I came apart.

On the other side of the door, there was silence.

The last of my hope went out.

I climbed onto the windowsill, smashed the rusted latch with a chair, and threw myself out.

The snow broke the fall. But the pain that shot through my ankle was blinding.

I dragged my bad leg through knee-deep snow, running.

"Anna!"

Ethan's voice, roaring behind me. Footsteps chasing.

Snow and tears blurred my vision. I didn't care. I just kept moving.

I just wanted to get to the one thing that could save me.

I broke out onto the main road.

Headlights. A scream of brakes.

Everything went black.